


DOGS: Campers & Carnage

by KinoKahn



Category: DOGS (Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-03
Updated: 2013-10-22
Packaged: 2017-12-22 07:02:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/910312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KinoKahn/pseuds/KinoKahn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Badou Nails, Heine Rammsteiner, and Naoto Fuyumine end up in a camp for troublesome teens in need of rehabilitation and counseling. Needless to say, the three aren't completely thrilled to be there. A summer camp AU full of mystery, intrigue, and sociopaths.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The summer camp was set near a lake, as all good summer camps are located. It was also near the train tracks, which is more unusual. And it was surrounded by electric fencing, which is certainly unexpected. The sign at the entrance read Dangerous Youths: Proceed With Caution. A school bus that had seen better days rattled through the gates. The gates had spikes and shut very quickly behind the rusted yellow vehicle.

The students who filed out were Bad Kids. That much was obvious. Their clothes were all different levels of ragged and their hair colors ranged from unnatural to disturbing. They were pierced and tattoo'd and made up in various stages of whore. The true indication was in the facial expressions that ranged from sullen to hostile. Every teen looked like they were a hundred years old.

The only one who looked any different was a grinning ginger. He had an arm around the shoulders of a bored-looking albino and was blowing cigarette smoke everywhere. "Best summer ever, man," he laughed, readjusting the strap of his eyepatch. "This is gonna rock!"

"Shut up," the albino hissed. "Dear god, just… stop talking."

"Three hours," said a small girl rocking suspenders. "I swear he didn't take a breath the entire time."

"See, you even pissed Mimi off," the albino said, ducking out from under the ginger's arm and straightening his black leather vest, "and she likes you."

"I do not!" the girl in suspenders snapped. "He's too dumb and he smokes all the time!"

"Hello? I'm right here, assholes," the ginger growled.

"Line up!" roared a pack of counselors. The kids mumbled and gathered themselves into a loose group.

"THAT'S NOT A LINE!"

The group grew longer a thinner.

"MAKE A GODDAMN LINE—"

"It's good enough," sighed the largest counselor. His appearance was similar to Thor, had Thor eaten too many pancakes and seen too much of life. He readjusted his glasses. "Uh, all right kids, listen up. It's good to have you here for the summer. I hope we can help you out. We're going to split everyone up into cabins. You'll get to know each other better that way, but I hope you'll also meet people from other cabins. We'll give you the freedom to chat with each other and mingle; just don't abuse that privilege. Hanky panky is not allowed on camp grounds. Um. All right counselors, check your lists and start calling names I guess. Oh, and kids? Let me know if you need anything. My cabin is the smallest, so I have plenty of time to talk to you on a one on one basis. My name's Mihai." He glanced down at a clipboard in his hand. "All right. Um. My group is Badou Nails, Heine Rammsteiner…"

"Look at that!" the ginger yelled, grabbing the albino again. "You and me, man!"

"Shiiiiit," groaned the albino. Neither of them heard the last name Mihai called out. They were busy hauling their backpacks—and in Badou's case an extra duffel full of military surplus clothing—over to their counselor. Mimi darted ahead.

"Heya," she said, smiling up at Mihai. "I'm Mimi. I'm not in the camp itself but I'm here to help out in the kitchens. Can you point me that way?"

Mihai blinked at her, then consulted his clipboard. He flicked through a few pieces of paper. "Oh, yes, um. I can take you there in a minute, it's best not to leave you alone around here. Everyone travels in packs."

"I'll be fine." She smiled winningly.

"Camp rules," Mihai shrugged. "Everyone has to have a buddy."

"Buddy system? Shit," groaned the albino, slumping over to Mihai.

"Get used to it," Mihai said. "Now, what's your name?"

"Heine."

"Oh so _that's_ how you say it."

Heine's face twisted like he'd bitten into a lemon. "Yeah. A lot of people get it wrong."

The ginger hacked out "Heiney" in midst of a coughing fit, flicking his dead cigarette to the ground. Mimi snickered. Heine glared.

"And you are…?" Mihai asked, raising his eyebrows at the ginger.

"Badou!"

"The one and only," Mimi sighed.

"It's unusual to see such enthusiasm," Mihai said, checking Badou's name off. "Welcome to camp."

"Glad to be here!"

Mihai looked at Badou over the rim of his glasses. "What did you do to get sent here?"

Badou stared at him, his one eye wide and innocent. "Why do you ask?"

"I get an arson vibe from you," Mihai said quietly. "A little too excited for your own good."

Badou laughed happily. "Naw, I just use fire for cigarettes. Some people caught me trespassing."

"Trespassing?" Mimi snorted. Badou shot her a look.

Mihai continued to stare. "But seriously, what did you do?"

"Just broke into houses. Took pictures of stuff. Maybe I found some shit I wasn't supposed to." Badou shrugged. Then he glanced at Heine and Mimi. "Well, I kinda hung around the wrong people, too…"

Heine kicked at him and Badou dodged, laughing again. Mimi gave him the finger.

Mihai watched them all, looking slightly puzzled. "And what did you do to get yourself sent here, Heine?"

"Firearms," Heine sighed, staring at the sky. "I had a bunch when I shouldn't have. And they didn't know what else to do with me once they found me."

Mihai blinked. "Oh."

"Hey, isn't all the stuff in our files?" Badou asked, digging in his pockets for more cigarettes.

"Technically, yeah," Mihai said, "but I prefer students to tell me themselves. I don't want to talk to you and have a biased opinion because I know your felonies. Besides, your records are going to be wiped when you're eighteen so long as you haven't done anything horrible, and I want to make sure you do good in the future and don't get stuck on what happened in the past."

"Inspiring," someone said dryly. All three men and Mimi turned to look.

She was dressed like a Goth but wasn't wearing any makeup. She looked like she could break someone's heart and their femurs if she was in a good mood. Heine winced, looking away nervously.

"You need more skirt, girl," Badou said.

"So they say," she said. "Naoto," she added before Mihai could ask.

He found her name and checked her off, then made eye contact with her. "And why are you here?"

"My story was too weird," she said, "and they didn't know where else to put me, either." She nodded at Heine but he didn't notice. He was watching something that was happening to his right.

Mihai frowned. "Interesting. I'd like to hear more about that at some point, if you wouldn't mind telling me."

Naoto's eyes narrowed slightly but she didn't say anything.

Mihai cleared his throat. "Well. Um, if you'll follow me—"

"What's she doing here?" Heine asked suddenly, pointing to a small blond girl who was looking around her with wide, scared eyes. Unlike everyone else here, she didn't have a backpack. She wasn't glaring at the authority figures, but instead seemed to be trying to hide behind her hair as a female counselor demanded her name. On her back, a pair of tiny, pale wings fluttered fearfully.

Mihai squinted. "Is she a genetic creation?"

Heine was already walking over. Badou and Mimi glanced at each other, both looking very confused indeed.

"So, is he cool with chicks now?" Mimi muttered at Badou out of the side of her mouth.

"I didn't think so," he muttered back.

"Hey," Heine said, stepping up next to the girl and looking the counselor dead in the eye. "Stop yelling at her."

"She won't tell me her name," the counselor said, glaring at him.

He looked down at the girl. Her eyes were huge and they darted over his face nervously, seeking something. She focused on his neck. Her eyes widened at the bandages wrapped all the way around his throat. Then she tapped her own throat and opened and closed her mouth a few times, shaking her head.

"She can't talk, dipshit," Heine told the counselor quietly, not taking his eyes off the girl. The girl nodded.

"Oh," the counselor said. She looked at the rest of the girls in her group. There were eight of them. They all looked bored as hell and angry to be here. The counselor turned to Mihai as he loomed over them all. "What should we do with her? I can't have a mute kid in this camp, sir, that's just… unsafe."

"These kids aren't bad, I keep telling you that," Mihai sighed. He peered at the girl. "Can you tell us how old you are? Is there anything we can call you?"

The girl bit her lip. She held up one finger on her right hand and four on her left.

"Fourteen," Heine murmured to himself.

She reached for Heine's hand then and wrote four letters in his palm with her finger. Badou and Mimi gaped.

"Holyshitshe'stouchinghim," Badou hissed.

"IknowIknowIseeit," Mimi hissed back.

"Her name's Nill," Heine said. He jerked his hand back.

"She's down here for prostitution," the counselor piped up, consulting her clipboard.

Nill winced at that. Heine reached out and smacked the clipboard to the ground, jaw tight. "She doesn't belong here," he said to Mihai.

"No," Mihai said, smiling gently at Nill. "I know where we can take her for now, though. You'll be fine there, Nill. It's a little out of our way but we'll walk you there and I'll explain your situation, okay?"

Nill nodded, sticking close to Heine. Her fingers wrapped around the end of his ridiculous black leather vest. Heine didn't say anything about it. Mimi and Badou quietly freaked out the entire way to the mess hall. Naoto stayed near the back and kept her eyes on the trees.

It really was a lovely site. The summer had just begun, so no contraband items had made their way into the foliage. No condoms hung from trees like filthy tinsel. No beer cans littered the paths. No bullet holes marked the tree trunks. Well, no new bullet holes anyway. Birds still sang here, having forgotten why they avoided this place from June until September. The wind rustled the trees and made them speak a soft susurrus.

The group left Mimi in the care of chef Kiri and her backup-dancer kitchen slaves Zach and Baran. Badou started whining about the weight of his duffle. Everyone ignored him.

Their next stop was the camp chapel. Mihai knocked on the door and waited a moment, then walked in. "Bishop?"

"We have a bishop in the camp?" Badou said. "Daaaang."

"No, his name's Bishop," Mihai said.

"That's weird," Badou laughed. "Heine and I know a dude named Bishop. He's a priest too—"

"Hello, Badou," sighed the tall, pale man who popped out of the side door of the church.

"Holy shit, that's Bishop!" Badou yelled, dropping his bags in shock.

"I'll assume Heine is with you," Bishop said, pushing up the small dark spectacles that covered his eyes. "You two are never far apart from each other."

"I resent the implication," Heine muttered.

"We're here about a new resident," Mihai plowed in. "I don't know how you know these boys, Bishop, but they're not the primary concern right now."

"I'm surprised they haven't ended up here sooner, to be honest," Bishop said. He cocked an ear. "Are there two more people here with you, or is my hearing going?"

"You're dead right, as always," Mihai said. "We're here about Nill, actually. She's—"

"She's not fucked up, Bishop," Heine broke in.

"Oh? Girlfriend of yours, Heine? Are you getting over that little problem?" Bishop's eyebrows were almost lost in his hairline.

"Fuck off!" Heine spat.

"Language," Mihai said. "Anyway, we don't want her mingling with the other residents, and she can't speak. She's, ah, she has wings, too."

Bishop's eyebrows climbed a centimeter higher. "A special girl indeed. All right, there's space for her here as long as she didn't bring too much with her."

Heine and Mihai both looked at the girl. She shrugged and shook her head.

"She doesn't have any bags," Heine said.

Bishop's mouth dropped. "What's she wearing right now?" he said in a deadly serious tone.

"Uh, it's like a sack thing?" Heine offered.

"Unacceptable!" Bishop roared. "A girl that beautiful deserves only the best!"

"Aren't you blind?" Naoto asked.

"I don't need eyes to see beauty!" Bishop cried, racing into the living quarters of the church. They all heard him banging around for a moment, then he emerged with a fluffy dress. "Try this on right now!"

"Not right now," Mihai said firmly. "And no molesting campers."

"He won't," Badou said. "He's creepy, but he's harmless."

"I'm not creepy!" Bishop insisted, waving the dress. Its bows bounced cheerfully.

Heine looked down at Nill, who was eyeing Bishop dubiously. "Don't worry about him. I'll check up on you if you want. He's… he's mostly harmless, I swear."

Nill looked up at him. A smile broke out over her face and she nodded, then walked carefully over to Bishop. He smiled down at her. Mihai led the rest of them out as Bishop started talking about sweetheart necklines.

"All right, that's all the errands for now," he told the campers. "I'll take you to your cabin now. Dinner's in…" He glanced at his watch. "Oops. Ten minutes. You'll eat, then you'll unpack. We can talk schedules and chores and such afterwards, don't worry. Come on, let's hurry! Kiri hates it when people are late! Double time, boys and girl!"

The four of them jogged off down the hill. It wouldn't be sunset for a while, but darkness still seemed to follow them.


	2. Chapter 2

“Dude, that really white kid’s been staring at you for, like, ten minutes,” Badou muttered to Heine. It was a week into the camp and the two boys were on their own again. Naoto was sitting at their table as well, but she didn’t seem interested in what was going on around her. Badou kept forgetting she was here. Heine was looking everywhere except the small piece of space that she currently occupied. Now, Heine looked over his shoulder, where Badou was pointing, and Badou swiped his chocolate milk.

“Which really white kid?” Heine asked, scanning the crowd.

“The one who looks like you but with a stupid bowl cut. The only other albino here, jackass.”

Heine whipped back around immediately. “Fuck.”

“What?” Badou tried to casually hide the stolen milk.

“Fuck,” Heine said again. He was staring at the table with the eerie, wide-eyed look that meant he was seeing something far away in time. Probably the past. In Badou’s experience, everything horrible resided in the past. It didn’t always stay there, either.

“Calm down,” Badou said quietly, popping open the milk carton. “I got an eye on him, and you’ve got that whole thing.”

Heine sucked in air and looked Badou in the eye. “What the hell are you talking about? What thing?”

“That _thing_ , yanno.” Badou waggled his eyebrows and scratched his neck.

Heine’s shoulders shot up around his ears and he clamped a hand over his bandaged throat. “Shut up about that, Badou.”

“Calm down, no one gives a shit about us,” Badou said, chugging lactose.

“I give a shit who notices me,” Heine snapped, unable to keep his eyes from darting to Naoto. He looked away the minute he realized she was eyeing the hand on his throat suspiciously. “I’m just trying to make it to the other side of summer so I can convince these do-gooders I’m fucking _fine_ on my own and I’m not gonna go back to a life of crime.”

“But you’re totally going to go back to a life of crime,” Badou pointed out.

“And so are you.”

“Yeah, duh. But when I hit eighteen I’m gonna get a license so all my snooping is legal,” Badou pointed out. “The shit you pull’s gonna be illegal forever.”

“Then it’s a good thing that I have my _thing_ ,” Heine said, tightening the bandage around his throat. “Did you steal my chocolate milk?”

“Nope,” Badou burped, crushing the carton.

“Liar.”

“Heine.”

And Heine froze. Badou swallowed hard. The bowl-cut albino in dark sunglasses was standing directly behind Heine.

“Giovanni,” Heine said after a moment. Badou couldn’t suppress a shiver. Even Naoto took a startled breath in. Heine didn’t sound human. 

“Been a while.” Giovanni seemed to be waiting for an answer, but Heine didn’t speak up. Giovanni leaned down so his mouth was closer to Heine’s ear. “What did they catch you for?”

Heine seemed locked in place. Not even his eyes were moving, fixed on a point beyond Badou’s head. “Guns.”

“Aggressive as always.” Giovanni leaned away again, then turned his back and began walking away. “I just wanted to let you know that an old friend was in here with you. I’ll be seeing you around, I’m sure.”

“Why are _you_ here?” Heine growled, still frozen in place.

Giovanni didn’t look back. “Let’s say… something white-collar. A very different collar from yours.”

Heine’s jaw clenched. “When did you leave her?”

That made the other boy pause. “What makes you think I left?” he asked distantly.

Heine spun around quickly enough to make Badou squeak and Naoto tense up. “You didn’t run?”

“She was a bit more, ah, strict after you ran off,” Giovanni said. “I didn’t have the same opportunities you did.”

“She made us the same,” Heine said quietly.

“She did _not_ ,” Giovanni snarled, whirling to face Heine now. “We are very different people, you and I, and I don’t want you to forget that. You’re some kind of thug and I was a part of her business until—”

“Until she threw you to the dogs,” Heine said.

“Fuck you!” Giovanni yelled.

The cafeteria was silent, all heads turned to the pair of albinos facing each other. The moment stretched thinner and thinner.

It broke when Badou burped again. “Sorry,” he offered to no one in particular, “nervous habit!” Naoto sighed.

“Idiot,” Heine said, turning back to Badou. “You totally drank my milk.”

“Look, a lot of things make me gassy,” Badou said. “Wait, that sounded bad.”

When Heine glanced behind him again, a white bowl cut with a pair of sunglasses attached was nowhere to be found. His eyes accidentally scraped Naoto. He saw that she was watching the doors that led to the kitchen, her eyes narrowed. Heine looked back at his food quickly, before Naoto caught him looking and before Badou decided to try and swipe his tater tots as well.


	3. Chapter 3

Everyone was finding their groups. It wasn’t a matter of preps and nerd here, though. It was a matter of crimes. The thieves were collecting in their little packs, the petties and the car jackers and the pickpockets. The assault kids tended to avoid each other, but every now and then they would get together and have a silent, bloody fight that ended in at least one broken bone. The few arson kids spoke together quietly. They were twitchy and kept looking at the buildings’ structural integrity. The mutants peered into the other groups, and sometimes were allowed entrance. The ones who were rejected sat in a silent clump, backs together, alert for assault. The prostitutes were a whining mob, trading hair tips and makeup and clothes and begging for attention. The kids on drugs grouped together by substance. 

None of these groups liked the loudmouth ginger. None of them liked the quiet albino. None of them liked the hard-faced Goth girl. Fortunately, none of the victims of their rejection gave a flying fuck.

The three sat together in the lunch hall because no one would join them, and they refused to join anyone else. Badou ate everything the various dining servers put on his tray, then spent the rest of the time asking if he could finish Heine’s food. He tried to ask Naoto once. She pointed her plastic spork at him in a meaningful way and said, “You like having at least one eye, right?”

When they weren’t eating, there didn’t seem to be much else to do. Kids sat around, swam in the lake, hit each other with rocks, and found friends to smuggle them drugs and alcohol. Badou made it his project to climb every tree in the forest, declaring that he was “practicing for my career as a ninja spy.” Heine wandered. Naoto wandered as well, and Heine was very careful that their paths never crossed. A few counselors yelled about the buddy system, but Heine was determined. Naoto seemed to walk around the same area every day, carrying a large stick, so it was easy to avoid her. Maybe she was drawing something on the ground. Maybe she was secretly an arsonist. Maybe she was trying to dowse. Who knew?

Sometimes, Heine took Nill wandering with him. She liked the outdoors but she wouldn’t leave Bishop’s church alone. They walked in silence for the most part. Heine kept his hands crammed in his pockets, elbows tucked against his sides, and Nill would flit around and touch everything. She seemed amazed at every flower and leaf that she spotted. 

“You’ve seen trees before, right?” Heine asked her once. 

She looked at him with a very clear expression. _Duh._

“Why are you so amazed by it all then?” he asked, even though he knew she couldn’t answer.

Nill looked thoughtful for a moment. Then she looked at him seriously. A slow smile grew on her face as she looked around her, then back to him. She looked dazzling as she spread her arms out wide, like the wings on her back, and took in the whole world.

“You still like all this?” Heine said. “Even after all you’ve seen?”

Nill nodded without hesitation.

Heine snorted. “You’re better than I am.”

Nill shook her head empathetically and wrapped her hand around his shoulder. 

Heine flinched but nodded at her after a moment, a single jerk of his head. “Thanks,” he said. 

A kid with horns sticking out of his head fell out of the tree.

“The fuck?” Heine yelled, jerking upright and pulling a gun from the small of his back. Nill clamped onto the tail of his vest. 

The kid rolled onto his knees and raised his hands. “Sorry! Sorry! Badou said he was a faster climber than me and I said that was bullshit so I agreed to race and I have to practice but then I fell and I’m sorry!”

Heine’s gun vanished and he rolled his eyes. “Goddammit Badou.”

“Dude.” The kid with the horns was staring at the space under Heine’s arm, looking like he was finally getting a concussion from falling out of the tree. Heine glanced behind him. Nill was peering out, eyes wide with surprise.

“Um, hi?” the horned kid said. “I’m Yohra.”

Nill nodded at him, stepping carefully out from behind Heine. She looked up at Heine then looked at Yohra. 

“You’ve got wings,” Yohra breathed. Nill failed to hide her smile. When Heine didn’t say anything, she nudged him with her shoulder.

“She’s Nill,” Heine sighed. “She can’t speak.”

Yohra’s face fell into one of absolute regret. “Aw man, I’m really sorry about that, Nill. Do you do sign language at all or somethin’?”

Nill shrugged and shook her head.

“She makes herself understood,” Heine said. Nill smiled up at him but Heine was glaring at Yohra. “You a mutant?”

“Yeah,” Yohra said, scraping a hand through his messy hair and hooking two fingers on the horn that stabbed out over his ear and followed the curve of his skull until it ended just past his forehead in a deadly-looking point. “What of it?”

“A lot of that around here,” Heine said. 

“We kinda gotta stick together,” Yohra offered.

Heine shrugged. “She’s not here with the rest of the criminals—“

“I can tell,” Yohra sighed dreamily. He quickly looked away, turning pink. “I, I mean she’s not wearing the shirt.”

Heine’s mouth tightened into a frown. He tugged the zipper on his vest up, trying to cover the camp’s regulation yellow T-shirt. It was completely out of place against all of his black leather and pale hair. He shook himself and turned away. “Come on, Nill, we gotta get you back to Bishop. Nearly lunch.”

He heard her hesitate, but then her soft steps followed him. Maybe she traded yearning glances with the kid with the horns. Maybe she didn’t. Heine refused to turn and look. He didn’t own her. He wasn’t her brother. He shouldn’t even try to worry about her social life.

Still, when she took his hand a minute later, though he left his fingers limp, he let her hang on to him though the woods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been forever since we updated on here! Our tumblr - sometimesiwritefanfiction - tends to update more often than AO3 if you're interested.


	4. Chapter 4

It was a church service Sunday, so Badou and Heine snuck out back while Bishop was distracted (even his bizarrely good senses were dulled by the presence of over eighty campers sweating and muttering to each other while he tried to tell them that God wasn’t so bad). Badou lit up one of his cigarettes and Heine started fiddling around with a switchblade he’d borrowed from Naoto. She didn’t know he had it yet. It was only a matter of time, of course, but he was safe as long as he put it back where he’d found it. She was smart. It wasn’t under her pillow. It had been tucked against the wall, carefully balanced so she would be able to grab the hilt with her right hand and, presumably, fuck some shit up as fast as possible. Heine admired that. She scared him in that way all girls did—apart from Nill—but he respected her for knowing how to set up her weapons.

“Hey, dude,” Badou said, waving his cigarette so the smoke would make lazy patterns in the stifling air, “do that thing.”

Heine rolled his eyes. “You have to come up with a better thing to call it than my _thing_. Please.”

“I mean, I could get specific but that’d have pretty shit consequences. Then everyone would know what the thing was. You don’t want that. It’s a trump card and all that.”

“Calling it my _thing_ is starting to get old, though.”

“So you come up with something better. In the meantime, do that thing!”

“Why?”

Badou smiled, teeth bared and single eye narrowed in delight. “It’s fuckin _awesome_ , that’s why!”

Heine put his head in his hands for a moment. “You are an idiot, you know that right?”

“So says you!”

“Mimi agrees with me on this. We have evidence.” Heine raised his hands against Badou’s counterargument. “All right, all right, I’ll indulge you.” Heine stepped a few feet away, sat down, and flicked the knife high into the air. It spun, glinting in the light of the sun. Heine watched it lazily, unfastening his vest to reveal the painfully yellow camp shirt. He dropped onto his back, arms spread wide, just as the knife reached the height of its arc. It hung, turning slower now, and then plummeted back down. With a dull thump, it landed in Heine’s chest and sank to the hilt between his ribs. His whole body shivered for a second. Then he carefully tugged the knife out, moving slowly. Nothing on his face suggested that he was in pain apart from a faint tension around his mouth and eyes. He yanked it free and sat up, turning to show Badou that he had managed to stab himself, a few inches south of his heart, and pull the knife out without any blood being spilled. There was only a rip in his camp shirt and a glistening sheen of red on the blade.

“An inch lower on that shirt and we’d all be able to see your nip, dude,” Badou pointed out.

Heine’s face shifted from its usual sarcastic glower to complete annoyance. “Are you kidding right now? _That’s_ what you got out of that? I am never doing that thing for your amusement again.”

“What she said, man!” Badou snorted, giggling around a new cigarette.

“How do you keep getting those?” Heine asked, tapping the abandoned butt with the toe of his jangling boot.

Badou winked. “Cafeteria lady’s sweet on me.” 

“Kiri?” Heine wore his most skeptical face. “Really?”

Badou sighed. “So little trust.”

Heine just waited, wiping the knife clean on his black jeans.

“Yeah, okay, so the cafeteria dudes run a contraband business on the side. Kiri doesn’t know. Mimi does, but she’s not revealing her sources yet. They’re all felons working off some of their time doing community service. They pity a poor gangbanger like me.”

“You’re the furthest thing from a gangbanger, Badou,” Heine sighed.

“So I lie. What of it? They’re criminals! I _need_ my cigs, man.” Badou looked solemn for once. “Seriously. Don’t ruin this for me. I need nicotine.”

“Is that my fucking knife?” Naoto was standing with her hands on her narrow hips, looking dangerously calm. Badou yelped and Heine flinched. Neither boy had heard her come up. 

“Give it,” she said, holding out a hand.

Heine snapped the knife closed and tossed it without looking directly at her. It landed in her palm neatly. She turned it around, rolling it over and under her fingers.

“It is,” Naoto said, sounding distant, “my knife.”

Badou swallowed audibly. “Uh, apologies, we were just fuckin around with it!”

Naoto glanced at Badou. “You know a girl in the kitchens, right?”

“Y-yeah?”

“I’ll forget this whole knife thing if you tell me something.”

Badou sat forward suddenly, tucking his hands under his chin. His eyes gleamed. “Ask away!”

“Is there a guy there dressed like a shit punk rocker, with really long greasy hair?”

Badou itched his nose thoughtfully. “Can’t say I’ve seen anyone there like that, but I’ll keep an eye out. I’ll ask my source to keep an eye out, too.”

“You are not a real information broker, jesus christ Badou,” Heine muttered.

“Fuck off, Heine, you miserable asshole,” Badou said, still looking pensive. “A guy’s gotta make a living. Miss Naoto, I shall let you know post-haste.”

Naoto nodded. “Don’t touch my shit again.”

“Deal,” Badou said.

It took Heine a moment to find the ability to speak to a girl. “Deal.”

“And don’t call me Miss Naoto, that’s stupid,” she said. The knife had vanished somewhere on her person, but both boys remembered that it was there somewhere.

“We won’t,” Badou said quickly. Heine kept his eyes on the ground but nodded. Naoto walked away.

Badou breathed out in a huff. “Shit, she is terrifying! But why’re you so scared of her, man? You’re immortal!”

“I’m not immortal, Badou,” Heine said. “I’m just resistant to getting killed. And it still fucking hurts. And—”

“And you _liiiiiiike_ her!” Badou squealed, clasping his hands under his chin and fluttering his eyelashes. “You think she’s so _pretty_ and so _badass_ and—”

“Shut up,” Heine said, standing. “It’s nearly lunch. Let’s go. You can ask you, ahem, _source_ if she’s seen anything while legitimately investigating this goddamn camp.”

“I’d give up while you still can, man,” Badou said, standing and stretching out the kinks in his spine. “She’s clearly into shitty punk rockers with poor hygiene.”

“So you’re saying you have a better chance than me,” Heine said, stuffing his hands in his pockets and meandering down the path to the cafeteria.

“That’s rude and untrue and I resent that!” Badou yelled, racing after him. “I’m like military chic, not punk rock!”

Heine laughed suddenly, a jerky, harsh sound. “And what, I’m bargain-bin bondage?”

“Woah, dude,” Badou said, grinning. “You said it, not me.”

“Fuck you,” Heine snorted, straightening his leather vest.

“The yellow shirt ruins your look but yellow looks fabulous with my hair,” Badou said, trying to toss his stringy ginger locks and ending up with a mouthful of them instead. He spat his hair out and sniggered. Heine merely smiled. White and red and yellow, they slouched together to lunch.


	5. Chapter 5

“I found your guy,” Mimi muttered to Badou and Naoto a week later as she carefully spilled a stack of half-empty cocoa cups all over Badou.

“Holy shit, ow!” Badou screamed, while Heine put his head down on the table and snickered. 

Naoto stared at all three of them, a faint smile on her face. “What guy?” she asked Mimi once she could be heard over Badou’s swearing.

“The punk loser with bad hair,” Mimi said. “You didn’t mention that he had a nice bod though. Sure, he looks like he rolled in a dumpster till some clothes stuck to him, but he wears a lot of midriff shirts and his arms—”

“What does he say his name is?” Naoto asked. Heine, Badou, and Mimi all stared at her. She was stiff in her seat, voice dead and eyes focused intently on Mimi.

“Uhh, I, I don’t know,” Mimi stuttered, ducking her head to help Badou clean cocoa off his jeans. “I just know he works Tuesdays in the back, and Thursdays on garbage. I, uh, how do you know him?”

Naoto shook her head and turned to glare on the door to the kitchens. “Today’s Sunday.”

Her normally chatty tablemates were surprisingly silent.

“Thank you,” she said abruptly. She turned back to her food, finished it within a minute, and left with a whisper of skirts and a clunk of combat boots. The three left at the table stared after her. Once the door to the cafeteria had slammed shut, all of them moved their heads in close.

“Okay, is that dude like her creepy old boyfriend or what?” Mimi hissed. “Seriously, he looks like a member of some horrendous death metal band.”

“What, really? Hey, maybe Heine has a chance with her after all!” Badou sniggered. 

Heine slammed his fist on Badou’s narrow fingers, which were splayed out on the table. “Is it suspicious that you’re whispering with us when you’re supposed to just be a lowly cafeteria employee, Mimi?” Heine asked, ignoring Badou’s whimpers.

Mimi straightened up immediately. “Shit. I’ll see you boys later.” She carried off the ruined cocoa cups.

“Dick,” Badou muttered, still massaging his fingers.

“You’re bony,” Heine said. “It hurt me more than it hurt you.”

“You’re still a dick.”

“I’d stop if you— Never mind. Let’s go. I wanna see Nill before lights out.”

“You’re just surrounded by the ladies this summer, aintcha Heine?” Badou sang as he gathered his clean plate.

“Sorry, who’s being a dick?”

Badou stuck his tongue out and snagged the last of Heine’s pudding before Heine could drop it in the composting bin. “You’re getting over some shit, man. That’s a good thing! You can suddenly talk to half the world’s population for the first time since I met you! Well, one person who’s in the category of half the world’s population. Now we just need to work on you and Naoto…”

Heine was shaking his head when a huge hand dropped onto his shoulder. “Heine? Badou?”

Both boys looked up. Mihai was frowning down at them.

“Hello?” Badou offered after a moment.

“Would you mind working on the train tracks this week?” Mihai finally said after a moment of obvious internal struggle. 

“What train tracks?” Heine asked.

“The ones at the west end of camp. The train’s a… It’s a… Well, I’m not actually sure what it’s for but the board of directors wants it kept tidy. Can you do that? It needs a fresh coat of paint, and the tracks need to be cleared off.”

“What if we say we don’t want to do it?” Badou asked.

Mihai took his hands off the boys’ shoulders and straightened his glasses. “Well, then I tell you it was an order all along.”

“Okay,” Badou shrugged. “The semblance of personal autonomy. I can live with that.”

“Thanks, boys. I’ll ask Naoto at the cabin tonight. Unless you know where she is?”

Badou and Heine both shook their heads in unison.

Mihai looked out over the sea of fucked up teenagers. “All right then. Well, I have counseling hours this week so I’ll be back at lights out.”

“How come we don’t have counseling?” Badou asked. Heine’s elbow shot into his ribs but Badou ignored it.

Mihai looked down at him. “Do you _want_ counseling?”

“Oh no no no no,” Badou said, raising his hands quickly. “I just wondered why it’s not necessary.”

“It’s voluntary,” Mihai sighed. He looked peeved, then shook his head as if dispelling a bad thought. “Well, I won’t say it’s a bad idea to leave it up to the kids, because at least we know we’re helping the ones who want to be helped, but… Money-grubbing board of directors” was the last phrase that Badou and Heine could understand before the deepness of Mihai’s voice and the quietness of his grumbling rendered him impossible to understand. The boys stood there for a moment, watching Mihai glower at nothing and move his lips, making sounds like a clothes dryer.

“I’m going to go for a walk,” Heine finally said, backing away.

“Hm? Oh yes,” Mihai said waving a hand. “Back at the cabin before dark for lights out though.”

“Will do!” Badou called cheerfully. They headed out into a clear-skied sunset.

**Author's Note:**

> Throughout elementary and middle school, Davey read child detective stories. To hell with Nancy Drew or the Hardy Boys, though; Encyclopedia Brown and Nate the Great were her favorites. Delightfully cheesy, and some kickass girls making their mark on the story as well (talkin' bout you, Sally, and you, Emily with the cats).
> 
> Anyway, "DOGS: Campers & Carnage" is, in a way, an homage to these childhood-shaping whodunits, with an extra dose of never-went-to-sleep-away-camp-but-I'll-imagine-what-it-was-like. But with more sociopaths.


End file.
